


Rest for the Wicked

by FredGodOf



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleeping Together, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredGodOf/pseuds/FredGodOf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity looks after Oliver after they get back from dropping Slade off on Lian Yu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest for the Wicked

"My house or Dig's?" Felicity asks as she and Oliver climb into the back of Dig's car. Lyla is up front in the driver's seat and Dig shuts the trunk before he takes shotgun. "You didn't sleep on the plane, even when you weren't flying it, you certainly didn't sleep on the flight over there, or in all likelihood anytime in the previous like week. You are getting at least eight hours of sleep in a real bed.

  
"I'll be fine at the club." Oliver says, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw

"You will not." Dig counters. "My house or Felicity's, pick now or I'll pick for you."

Oliver glances up at Lyla and Dig, "Your's, Felicity."

"Good, Lyla, do you know the way?" Felicity asks.

"Already headed there," Lyla replies with a grin.

"Thank you." Felicity slumps back against the back seat, she wants to sleep for a week, but there's still eight or nine steps required first. She had half hoped Oliver would pick Dig's, but he knew as well as her that Lyla and Dig really needed some alone time to yell at each other and then probably have sex in the kitchen.

She didn't fight Oliver when he grabbed both their bags from the trunk, just hugged Lyla and Dig and pulled out her key. Oliver trails inside after her, some of his wariness easing as soon as he is through the door.

Felicity stops and considers the ease he's showing and whirls on him, "You did some sort of security upgrade here without telling me didn't you?"

He blinks at her a few times and then nods, "Yes. Only a few things though."

"Ugh." Felicity exclaims, "Go take a shower, I have old boyfriend clothes that will fit you. Well the pants will, there is nothing to be done about those shoulders, they are very nice shoulders, just you know huge, not as big as Dig's because nobody's are, and I'm rambling, hold on."

Oliver smiles, soft and pleased. "Thank you Felicity."

"You're welcome." Felicity replies with her own smile that only widens when she presents him with hideous orange sweatpants from a ex from Syracuse. "There's a tooth brush in a package in the medicine cabinet."

She makes sure the bed in the guest room is made and clean from the last time Melissa her friend from QI IT stayed over, which had to have been more than a few months ago, before Slade ruined what was left of her social life. She needs to call Melissa, not today though, maybe next week when the dark circles and bruises have gone away.

Oliver apparently does not like to linger under her less than impressive water pressure because he's out and dressed by the time she has stared into space for a few minutes contemplating the sheer amount of shit she has to do and then actually fluffed the pillows.

She leaves him to get settled while she takes her own shower, she does linger, crappy water pressure be damned she's scrubbing off every bit of gunk she's accumulated for the last way too fucking long. The water eventually goes cold and she sighs, towels off and pulls on her coziest flannel pjs, pink and covered in tiny cupcakes and she gives zero fucks right now.

She passes the guest room on her way to her bed, Oliver is on his side, facing the door, his eyes closed and his breath slow and even.

"You are one hundred percent faking it mister." Felicity says.

Oliver sighs and opens his eyes. "Its a really nice bed."

"That you are not going to sleep in are you?" Felicity asks.

"Probably not." Oliver agrees.

"I do not have a cave or even a desk with enough space underneath it." Felicity says, "And you are not allowed to sleep on top of my bookshelves because I bought them for less then twenty bucks each at Target and they will not hold you."

Oliver nods in agreement and pushes the covers back to get out of bed, swinging his feet to the floor.

"But if you think I am letting you go anywhere without getting at least eight hours sleep you are so underestimating me. So judgement free zone, where are you likely to be able to sleep. The desk really is tiny, but you could probably fit under the coffee table or the kitchen table, my closet is also unimpressive, but could be worth a try, and we can build you a furniture fort if you need one."

She gets one of Oliver's rare full smiles for that, crinkled eyes and the full set of teeth.

"You must have chewed on so many twigs on that island, because your teeth are still great and I know there wasn't a corner store to pick up your crest at." She says before her brain to mouth filter can stop her. "Right, sorry, off topic, places you think you might be able to sleep?"

He frowns at that, not saying anything for a moment.

"Seriously judgement free zone." She says again.

"Your bedroom floor with the window open." Oliver replies finally, quietly.

"My bedroom floor?" Felicity parrots back, "With or without me in said bedroom?" She isn't sure if it's a better strategic location or something more personal.

"I can go back to the club." He offers quickly, his shoulders coming up as he tense to flee.

"Nope, that was a serious question, I can sleep in here, or I can sleep in there with you, or I can stay up and watch your back, because I slept almost the whole plane ride back, you can check with Digg." Felicity assures.

She gets another smaller smile for her efforts. "If you're ok with it, can you be there, you don't have to stay awake, I just." he rubs at his stubble again, she'll have to try and find him a razor in the morning. "I just want to hear somebody else breathe, I want to know that you're not all dead."

It is perhaps one of the most honest things she has heard him say so she hugs him, lets him feel her warm and alive and breathing. He is warm and alive and breathing and its wonderful and he smells like the mango and peach soap she never uses anymore.

He buries his nose in her hair, and they just stand there for a few minutes, breathing in and out and getting used to the fact that right now, at this particular moment, neither of them are in danger.

It's a long moment but he eventually steps away, "Thank you." Oliver says.

They haul the blankets and pillows off the guest bed and into her room. He wants to be between her and the window so they move her dresser to accommodate all six foot plus of him.

She climbs into in her own bed, and with one last look at him curled up in a comma on his side, with her ugly green and white plaid comforter from college pulled up over his shoulders. She spares a brief thought to the bunk's on the wreck of the plane on Lian Yu, the one Oliver had cleared and the two more, over grown with ivy and each not an arm's length away the claustrophobic comfort of it all and wonders how many nights Oliver has woken up alone, and convinced that everyone he loved was dead.

Tomorrow Felicity knows Oliver will be back to the club or whatever bolt holes he has across the city, but It's a small comfort that she can give him tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why the reoccurring theme in my fic is sleeping.


End file.
